


Lilac Sky

by BladedFeather



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, This is a soft™ fic, Touch-Starved, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, as little angst as possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladedFeather/pseuds/BladedFeather
Summary: When it came down to it, Dick's colors were always the brightest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In my procrastination to edit two of my other fics, I wrote and edited this one, because...logic!  
> But really though I just wanted to write something soft™ for these boys. The concept came from the amazing [rilgqwilym](http://rilgwilym.tumblr.com/):
> 
>  
> 
> _"AU where whenever anyone (friends, family, lovers, enemies, w/e) kisses you be it on the lips, cheeks forehead, hand, shoulder, etc, etc, etc...it makes that patch of skin momentarily change color and, depending on how strong their feelings are for you, the intensity of that color and how long it lasts varies."_
> 
>  
> 
> I took some liberties, and also balled up canon and tossed it into the void. I hope I did the wonderful idea justice. Title from "Colors" By Halsey. (P.S I'm [here](https://jamesbuckybuck.tumblr.com/) on tumblr where I am more than willing to take prompts/scream about these boys.)

When it came down to it, Dick's colors were always the brightest.

Even with strangers, a friendly hand on the shoulder would explode into an incredibly faint, but still beautiful, patch of blue on their skin. With friends, touches were bright blue starbursts, happy and jovial.

Family left electric blue blossoms. Like ink through water, they would linger, shifting before gradually fading away.

Blue was a fairly common color, but Dick made it special.

Bruce's were dynamic, varying shades of grey. He had even mastered the ability not to leave a single stain of color on someone's skin. (So it always surprised the family when he would occasionally pat their shoulder, and they'd have a jet black swirl.)

Tim was yellow, like the sun. His thoughts as quick as the light he left on people's skin. His touches would leave behind intricate patterns and designs.

Damian was green, light and guarded. His colors were still new, still developing, and had the tendency to be inconstant in shade. Yet with people he deemed worthy, a passing touch would leave beautiful tendrils of light green.

And Jason, Jason was red. 

It had...singled him out, when he was younger. Red wasn't as common as some of the other colors, and Jason wasn't as trusting.  
Strangers would walk away from him with alarming looking splashes of red, the color of bloodstains. 

When he was young, a girl he met on the street had screamed in terror and ran after he had helped her up. 

He'd decided he didn't like touching people after that.

Jason was red. But not many people knew. He made it a point to wear gloves at every opportunity.

*

Since his return, Jason had grudgingly begun attending family movie nights.

If only because he had a weakness for Disney forty miles wide.

Barbara forced all of them to come together, those who could make it, and demanded that they be normal for at least an hour, once every few weeks.

Jason had appeared at the last three, communicating with Bruce through vague and uncomfortable nods.

There had been a glaring absence at every single one.

Dick had been on a deep cover mission for the better part of two years.

He hadn't even seen Jason since his...comeback.

Though Jason had heard through the grape-vine that something big had just been shaken up in the criminal underground, and criminals were jumping ship left and right.

Odds were that Robin 1 would be making an appearance.

*

They were mid-way through Tangled when there was a boisterous, "Alfred!" From the foyer.

Dick was home, just like Jason predicted.

He breezed into the room, huge smile on his face and he looked....

He looked good, Jason had to admit. Older. Still all whip-cord muscle and lean agility.

At some point Dick had gotten an undercut, and it _really_ suited him, even if he was dressed like a goddamn _hipster_.

Damian was the first to greet him, in his own high and mighty way; grudgingly accepting Dick's invitation for a fist bump.

His knuckles came away splashed in electric blue, and it gently wrapped itself around each finger, swirling as Jason watched.

Dick's fingers were faintly coated in light green lines, that looked faintly like rings, he took the time to examine it, smiling as he did.  
Damian pretended not to care, but he did anyway, given away by the happy little quirk to his mouth.

Dick had always been extremely tactile with people he cared about, and Jason watched as he made his way through the family, collecting various colors as he went, coming out the other side looking like a painters pallet.

The splash of yellow on his neck from where he and Tim had sort of wrestled/hugged, the soft purple on his bicep from Alfred, a spot of orange on his wrist from Barbara.

He got to Jason, and Jason held his breath. The other members of the family had all avoided touching him since he came back. He hadn't been very comfortable with it before he'd died, and they must've assumed it was off-limits now.

Dick though, Dick had been his one exception, the one person that he'd always given in too, even if the anxiety made him want to black out.  
He knew he'd give in, even now.

Jason was in gloves. Long sleeves.

He had no _actual_ reason to panic. No one would find out he _literally_ had bloody hands.

Dick stopped in front of him, looking him up and down, a far away glint in his eyes. 

"Hey, Little Wing," he murmured, easy as anything. Like no time had passed. It was strange, to have to look down a little to properly look him in the eyes, having been 14 compared to Dick's 18 when he'd started as Robin. It had been a long five years since then. 

There was a moment of hesitation, where Dick took half a step forward and paused, like he wasn't sure. 

Jason wasn't sure either. 

But he had to give in, and held out his arms, rolling his eyes with a little, "Fine, whatever, Grayson." 

Jason was halfway through breathing a sigh of relief as they parted that they hadn't touched when Dick's fingers accidentally brushed his exposed wrist. 

Jason's sigh turned into a rush of air and he instinctively jerked his hand back. 

Dick was staring at him in concern, hand out like he meant to touch him again. 

Jason just shook his head, trying to play it off as nothing. 

Dick didn't believe him, but accepted his evasion. 

They all settled back down to watch the movie and Jason reclaimed his position in the corner, by a window. Away from the rest of them all tucked up on the couch. 

The third act was a useless blur as he stroked his wrist with his thumb, back and forth. Avoided Dick's concerned glances.  
He hadn't actually touched Dick, and there was no trace of color on the other man's skin. 

It didn't help the wild beating of his heart at the thought of what could've happened though. 

And... 

Jason's wrist was _alive_ with bright blue electric stripes. 

It unsettled Jason, just how bright they were. He hadn't let anyone touch him in so long he wasn't sure if it was normal or not. 

He tried to write it off as the fact that it'd been so long since they'd seen one another, and that Dick's emotions were running high. 

Besides, everyone knew Dick's colors were the brightest. 

(Jason ignored the tingling in the stripes as they moved.) 

It didn't fade completely for three hours. 

* 

When it happens, it's an accident. A moment of weakness. 

Jason's bleeding everywhere, which isn't uncommon in his line of work. 

It's not bad, just a knife wound on his side. But he's having trouble stitching it up by himself. In the dark. On a random rooftop. 

To be honest, he was just too lazy to go back to his safe house. 

Jason's head snaps up when there is the sound of a grappling hook, and curses, wondering how he managed to be this unlucky. 

Couldn't a man try to clumsily sew himself back together in peace? 

Jason is surprised and mildly grateful when he spots black and blue in the moonlight. 

At least it wasn't the Bat. 

Nightwing is perfectly graceful as he uses the momentum of his grapple to flip, landing easily on the edge of the roof. There's a windswept smile on his face, and he looks... _free_. 

Jason forgets that he's bleeding out for a second, just staring. 

He remembers very suddenly when Dick's expression shifts as he catches sight of him. 

"Hood!" He shouts, practically leaping off the edge of the roof and sprinting over. Jason flaps his hand, trying to convey that he's fine and to please stop fucking _shouting_. 

"Wing?" He quips back. Dick ignores him, coming to a knee in front of him and analyzing his injury. 

"Hood, you can't do that by yourself, here, let me help," He says, ripping off his suits gloves as he speaks. Jason's shaking his head, trying to wiggle away and failing because it stings like a bitch. 

Dick uses one hand to hold him still, his grip like steel, and then reaches down, taking the needle and thread from him. 

Their bare hands brush and Jason cringes. 

It seems like Dick doesn't notice, though, can't distinguish it from the blood on his hands as he sews Jason back into one piece. 

He completes the last stitch, rinsing the wound and revealing that his blue has interwoven between the stitches and skin, just as bright and tingling. (Strangely...the tingling doesn't hurt.) 

Dick sits back, balancing himself rather precariously on the balls of his feet. 

Next he washes off his hands, and predictably freezes. 

Jason closes his eyes, doesn't want to see him try to scrub what he thinks is blood off his hands, doesn't want to watch the horror on his face as he realizes that Jason was destined to be a bad omen. 

He's forced to open his eyes when he hears Dick's voice, soft, "Little Wing..." 

He's staring down at his hands in wonder. 

Jason starts. Instead of the harsh rust red he's used to, the top of Dick's hand and a few of his fingers are painted in a gentle rose red from where their hands had brushed. 

Instead of looking dead, looking ugly and painful, the splotches of color on Dick's skin look like watercolor, and...they move. 

Jason's colors have never moved before. 

Jason watches in amazement, carefully sitting forward to get a better look. 

Jason can't read much of him through the mask, but Dick's biting his lip with a pinched expression. 

"Jay..." He starts, and shifts, actually sitting on the rooftop instead of hovering and moving a few inches closer. The nickname throws Jason. He hasn't heard it in so long. That yawning void of time opens in his memory, and Jason is uncomfortable again. Reminded of how the person across from him may not be the person he remembers. 

And vice versa. 

Dick opens his mouth again, but then thinks better of it. Slowly, so very slowly, he reaches forward. 

Jason flinches. 

Dick pauses, watches him carefully, and then continues to move his hands forward, slowly, carefully. 

He pulls off Jason's one remaining glove, and then hesitantly takes his hands. 

_Oh_. 

Jason watches as stripes of blue flare to life on his skin, wherever Dick touches him, and as more delicate red patches blossom on Dick's skin in return. 

The uncertainty and anxiety ebb away with a wash of warmth. The same warmth that Dick used to make him feel when he was still in the scaly shorts. 

Though Jason has the feeling that's about to change when as they watch, their colors suddenly dull. 

Dick's fingers tighten on his, and they hold their breath. 

Before either of them can panic, the color on their skin returns brighter and...purple. 

_**Oh.** _

"You're..." Dick gasps and Jason is speechless, the air punched out of him. 

He'd heard stories, fairy tales on the streets, really. But he'd never imagined it for himself. 

Never thought he even had a _soulmate_. 

He had to admit, that he'd had a crush on Dick. Because he had. It was stupid and juvenile but Dick had been like the hot senior every freshman stared at with hearts in their eyes. 

Jason never could've imagined that Dick was his goddamn soulmate though. 

Dick was staring at him with his mouth partially open, clearly shocked. 

Jason didn't know what to say, didn't know what to _do_. He wasn't sure he even _wanted_ a soulmate. It was undeniable though, that his colors seemed to have decided on the matter for him. 

They were slowly spiraling up Dick's wrist, shifting into light purple after a few seconds. 

"Jay I can't believe....I've waited so _long_ to find you and you were right here." Dick breathed, shaking his head, he stared down at their still joined hands and slowly untangled their fingers, taking one of Jason's hands in both of his. 

The tingling had increased, rising to what felt like a like a low grade burn in Jason's blood. 

Jason didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know if he and Dick could even _work_. They were so different, it almost seemed like a fluke that they were soulmates. 

Despite all of his reservations he couldn't bring himself to give up the opportunity in front of him, even if it would most likely end badly. 

Jason wrapped his free hand around the back of Dick's neck, gooseflesh rising on his arms at the feeling of actually touching him. Jason hadn't touched a lot of people skin to skin, and this...this was something else entirely. 

Red bloomed across Dick's neck. 

It looked like rose petals. 

He managed to pry his eyes away just as the petals became a gentle lilac in order to lean forward, crushing their mouths together. 

They broke away long enough for Dick to smile blindingly and breathe out a little, _"Oh, **there you are.** "_

Before Jason's rolling his eyes, pulling him back in. 

**Author's Note:**

> _And now I'm covered in the colors..._


End file.
